Gloria
by smokingace
Summary: Kanda, Lavi, and fog. OT3.


**Title:** Gloria

**Fandom:** D.Gray-man

**Author:** su-dama/tempusfugit3

**Pairing:** Kanda/Lavi

**Rating:** NC-17 for language and sexuality

**Words: **2,100

**Disclaimer:** DGM belongs to Hoshino Katsura et al.

**A/N: ** An exercise in Kanda's affairs. I hope I made the best of it. For my LJwife nitrojen.

**-Gloria-**

Kanda can see the fog settling on the short moors of the courtyard, so he leaves his restless post to look around. He thinks he knows who is out here, in the morning, without the morning sun, where there is the fog and the smell of clean earth and ice on the tongue. He just knows. Such simple things are allowed to press on his mind.

He is out here now, on the stone pavement, on the manicured-grass-gone-wild, and can feel his spine tingle when he sees the body by the pond. He approaches with bare feet, like a bird, so lightly and uniform. Crows caw as they fly from the tips of the tree inside the fog and then out of it. People will never know what it means to fly out of the fog.

He stops. The body belongs to Lavi, and Lavi is flicking a rock across the pond. His hair is too red in the morning, sticking up in the back.

"You're up," Kanda sighs.

"Yeah, I figured you'd sneak out here."

"I do not sneak."

"All right, Mister Stealth Muffin."

Kanda does not think he deserves an answer. He automatically goes to sit at the edge of the pond and dips his feet in. At least the surface is clean and there are few fish to ruin its simplicity. He believes everything is simple. Everything must be simple in order to lay perfectly in ruin. He can feel some sharp pricks in his chest, but he ignores them.

Lavi starts to say something, retracts, and says it again. Kanda ignores him.

"Yuu."

Kanda ignores him.

"Yuu."

Kanda ignores—

"Kanda, stop ignoring me."

"I am meditating."

"I know when you meditate, and that's not what you're doin'."

"Then . . ." Kanda doesn't look at him, peering through the water at his toes, getting murky where there is silt. "What am I doing?"

Lavi makes this low growl in his throat, like a primal cry for help, though it is still very low. He is sitting on the bench behind Kanda, probably slouching with his fingers picking at the pockets of his nightshirt, or at his hair that sticks up. Lavi probably didn't wash after getting up; he probably chose to forego the light meal and decided to conveniently wait for Kanda to come find him. Out here. Out amongst the black crows and the silent pond and the twig treetop. This is what happens when people are lonely.

They have a cathedral and an Order and co-workers. But people get lonely.

Kanda frowns at his train of thought and cuts it in half. "Lavi. Are you lonely?"

"What?"

"Lonely."

Kanda now chooses to look behind him, at Lavi's body and not Lavi's face. He wants and chooses to ignore how Lavi's bottom lip is full and dry. He feels sensual, but there must be someone to stop him: himself. He feels the clean fog on his hands, on his calves, on the rolls of his pants below his knees. The mix of stone and earth he sits on is making his ass numb; numb all the way to the base of his skull, where the feeling just stops like the limit he wants to set.

Lavi has been, just as anticipated, looking to find Kanda's feet in the water from his position on the bench. Kanda wonders if his ass is growing numb as well.

"Lonely," Kanda repeats. "I wonder if you feel that way. At times."

Lavi is swallowing. "Is this just your way of getting back at me for that one time after the meeting?"

Kanda doesn't smile.

"Unless that was a trick question."

Kanda smiles at him, showing some molars. "You're the rabbit with the tricks."

"And that's another thing. Since when did I get to be this rabbit you speak of?" Lavi rests his chin on his palm, elbow on raised knee. He sticks his tongue out briefly, not to lick that dry lip, but to always, for lack of a better word, flirt.

Kanda doesn't pick at the grass; he fans his fingers over it, at the points, the dew catching onto the lines of his skin. He rubs two fingers together. "Never," he sneaks in.

He can feel Lavi getting down on his knees, cracking against the stone, coming to rest against Kanda's backside as he sits there, with Lavi's thighs against his back. He has this urge to turn around. He has this urge to grin like a sadist, tell Lavi to fuck off, and to see what happens next.

"I didn't come out here for that."

"Yes you did. Turn around, Yuu."

"Then you admit to being lonely."

"Haha, whatever. I'm lonely as fuck."

Kanda waits a moment to turn around, but he does, quick and vicious and planting Lavi into the ground. He makes him lie there in order to gather himself; he makes it simple for them both. Kanda slides one knee up Lavi's erection and down again. Lavi's legs are on each side, but immobilized, and cold, so Kanda is between them, up and down again. Lavi's skin, soft and leathery below the too-short pant legs. Old blister marks around the heals. Little blond hairs.

Kanda hates hair except his own. He also hates it when Lavi does indeed lie there like a damn fish. He grabs Lavi's knees with a roughness and spreads them further.

"Not here, boss."

"Since when did I get to be this boss you speak of? It makes no fucking sense."

"Uh."

Kanda starts to undo the buttons in Lavi's lap and brings out his erection. "No one can see," he says quietly, partly to assure himself that a priest won't suddenly come walking by to, not embarrass, not condemn, but expose Kanda's unruliness. There are rules, and then there is an unruliness that Kanda retreats to in his spare time. It's like taking a drink from the pond, only it's a coffin filled to the brim with ice water. In his mind, buds flow over the side, making the ice smell of them.

"It's cold out here," Lavi says, shivering for emphasis. When Kanda doesn't answer, he whispers, "Are we gonna fuck?"

"No. Not out here."

"Someone could see us."

Kanda shakes his head at the coinciding thought. He holds onto Lavi's cock. "You're warm here. And, no one will see us."

"If ya. Say so."

Lavi should see how the fog is sweeping around him, them, the tree and the bench, and across the pond. A wolf might howl in the mountains of his mind: Lavi's eyes are currently falling shut and might be expecting Kanda to put his mouth on his cock, but Kanda doesn't do that sort of thing. He would gag, even though it's simply flesh and apart of the body. He knows he is sensual, after many years of realizing this; he knows Lavi has called him a sexy beast and that Kanda is not really one but maybe one that doesn't recognize this attribute after many years of realizing this. He may just be confused.

Never does he wish to erase the confusion, because when he is confused, Lavi is confused, and admittedly, deep down, Lavi makes him smile.

"God, Yuu," Lavi moans, biting his lip. Kanda watches as the neck tendons constrict under the flesh, the arteries, and down to where his very hands are gripping and playing at Lavi's cock. Kanda's hands become slick and he knows Lavi is already close: his legs are moving to ball up, feet and toes. Lavi reaches for him.

"I'm here," Kanda whispers.

"I know you're here. Fuck me already."

"No, not here." Kanda stops petting the tip of him now.

They swallow in sync with the crow's caws. Lavi gathers himself. Then they continue when a bird lands on the bench in front of Kanda and behind Lavi, tilting its head, innocent black eyes on these two bodies in the fog. Lavi would say it's cursed, don't let it watch, but Kanda would say Lavi believes in too much superstition, like it's some messenger of the devil.

"I bet it's thinking, man alive, I want a boss just like him," Lavi says after catching a breath.

"It just wonders why you keep talking," Kanda says flatly.

Lavi's hands finally make their way down to his bellybutton, resting there on the slight river of hair, bleached curls. Kanda rolls his eyes toward the bird and back again, understanding that he should slow down with his enforced grip-and-tug. It's too enforced that he can't be forceful without it. And it's like he needs Lavi's cock to touch his fingers, or that he needs to touch Lavi's cock, until it is weeping with gratitude (as it should), and just as Kanda thinks of it, Lavi flinches.

"I'm gonna go."

"Not yet."

Lavi snorts. "I don't have all d-day oh fuck right _there_."

Kanda is touching him along the vein. He dips his nail slightly, running it along the ridges. Tap, tap. He is hard himself; he wants an out, he wants to cup himself and writhe and then let Lavi writhe on top of him. He fantasizes to himself as he works on Lavi, and when he comes to terms with his fantasies, he's ready for Lavi to come into his hands. Put your safety in Kanda's hands and there shall be glory for it.

Lavi groans and comes.

There is much glory.

Kanda's fantasies don't want to leave just yet, and they dawdle on how Lavi's lip is dry, how it should be wetted because it is so annoyingly dry and _annoying_, why the hell hasn't Lavi licked it yet?

Lavi moans and tries to lift his legs but they are weak by Kanda's touch, so they rest to the sides. Kanda flutters his hand over his erection that could be painful by someone else's standards, but he ignores it. He swallows the clean simplicity of the air and almost tastes a leaf as it scratches past his face. He watches it fly into the fog.

"Hmm."

"You made me forget my birthday there," Lavi says, full of himself, and making Kanda full of himself in the process.

Kanda smirks. "Don't think I'll be sucking on it next time." Then he smiles widely and bows his head over Lavi's cock, where he kisses it and begins to taste. Lavi thrusts and Kanda abandons the project.

The leaves are blowing and scratching across them. A red one lands on Kanda's chest; he bats at it like a cat would, hand flexed on his sweater. He watches himself.

"Hold on," he tells Lavi.

He listens for footsteps but there are none. There are only leaves blowing about. Kanda takes this as a sign and wipes the salt of come from the kiss of his lip, and maybe it's not too bad. Though he won't be telling Lavi this. He abhors any unnecessary behavior that could result in catastrophic madness.

Like such: Kanda goes against his inner word, leaning back to rinse his hands in the pond, scooping a handful of water that drips coldly between his fingers as he puts it to Lavi's lips, unsuspecting; Lavi rests there suspecting now, letting the water dribble down, wash away, over his chin and cheeks, into his hair, into his white collar, laying flat on the earth.

Kanda is watching himself smile. He is watching himself enjoy it as Lavi smiles and closes his eye, waiting for Kanda to do it again, or to initiate something else. Kanda is not such a hard-ass if he can enjoy it.

Lavi is wet across the mouth and it is perfect; perhaps Kanda has issues with control, one may make that observation. One may think he is a robot, wanting perfection.

He just wants to feel this person with a fake name.

Lean over him, across that body.

And lick away the wetness from his lips with the fog wrapped around them.

He'll probably have Lavi for breakfast.


End file.
